


look at me with storm-cloud sky eyes

by Areiton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Protective Tony Stark, Tumblr Prompt, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: Tony brings him back to the tower, dumps him in Steve’s startled lap, and retreats because that whole brainwashed amnesiac shattered psyche is someone else’s problem to fix.He gets very,verydrunk.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 54
Kudos: 899





	look at me with storm-cloud sky eyes

In the end, it’s not the Widow or even the lonely best friend, not the US government or Ross’ dogs, who bring the Winter Soldier out from the cold. 

In the end, it’s a man with too much money and too much rage, and he crashes into Barnes’ squat with a whine of repulsars and his mother’s choked cries echoing in his ears. 

They stare at each other, and Winter says, “Are you here to kill me?” 

His voice is thin and broken and resigned. Tony  _ hates  _ it. Hates  _ him.  _ Still--he thinks of Steve’s sad eyes and Natasha’s quiet desperation and Rhodey--

Rhodey would be so disappointed. 

He lowers his hand, and some of the tension in Winter’s shoulders leaks out. 

“Not today,” he says. 

~*~ 

Tony brings him back to the tower, dumps him in Steve’s startled lap, and retreats because that whole brainwashed amnesiac shattered psyche is someone else’s problem to fix. 

He gets very,  _ very _ drunk. 

~*~ 

It works, mostly. 

They avoid each other. Barnes avoids  _ everyone _ so it’s not like he’s  _ special _ or like Barnes hates him. 

The team thinks he hates Barnes, which--he doesn’t do anything to change that impression. He knows Natasha and Steve know HYDRA used the Winter Soldier to kill his parents, knows that if they do, everyone does, but it’s not like he’s going to talk about it to them--he’s barely able to get through telling Rhodey, and it’s  _ Rhodey.  _ So they have their reasons to think Tony hates Barnes, and he’s got no reason to disabuse them of that and--it works. 

They avoid each other. 

It works. 

~*~ 

Sometimes, as the months pass and Winter gives way to Bucky, he catches himself  _ looking _ . 

Bucky is haunted and beautiful, with wide eyes and a crooked smile and an arm that he shyly lets Tony fix. 

Sometimes, as the months pass and Winter gives way to Bucky, he catches Bucky looking back, gaze wistful and sad, like he wants something he won’t let himself ask for, because Tony knows Bucky doesn’t ask for anything, takes whatever Steve and Nat and the others will give but he never  _ asks _ , HYDRA still too ingrained to let him. 

Sometimes, as the months pass and Winter gives way to Bucky, he catches something feral and dark and deadly looking at him, and he shivers, because he  _ wants.  _

~*~ 

There’s a fight. Barnes is fine now, the triggers dug out of his head and the bombs--a few quite literal--in his arm have been cleared away, and he’s  _ safe _ or as safe as the world’s deadliest assassin  _ can _ be. 

He adopts a cat, and Tony thinks anyone who is actually afraid of the Winter Solider should come camp out in the common room at three am, because there’s not a damn thing terrifying about Bucky in an oversized sweater with Alpine curled around his neck, knitting an exceptionally soft looking scarf. 

Still. There’s a fight. He’s cleared to join the team, now and Tony shoves back against it, when Steve brings it up, snarls and spits and gets a little bit rude with it, but there’s this too: 

Barnes is watching with wide, scared eyes. 

Winter is watching with cold, feral eyes. 

Neither of them belong in the field, and he thinks maybe neither of them  _ want _ it either. 

“Ask him,” Tony shouts, when Steve starts digging his heels in, when they’re getting close to  _ too far _ , when the insults dig deep and sting and Rhodey’s hand on his elbow is tight and the only thing keeping him from spinning into pieces--Rhodey’s hand and Winter’s ice cold eyes. 

“Ask him what he wants,” he snaps and shoves out of the room, and the silence is broken by Steve’s broken, “ _ Buck? _ ” 

~*~ 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky or Winter or both say, late that night. Alpine is sitting primly next to him while Bucky slowly strokes her back, and there’s going to be cat hair in the arm, Tony should  _ do _ something about that. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says, and Bucky goes still, Winter watching him, until his coffee finishes and he can flee. 

~*~ 

Things change, and nothing changes. 

Barnes still avoids him and Winter still watches him, storm cloud skies eyes fixed on him unerringly. 

Steve apologizes and Tony makes him a new suit and that’s that, done and dusted, and everyone is happy. 

~*~ 

Sometimes, when he’s sitting in the common room at three am and Bucky is rumbling in Russian to Alpine while he mutters notes to JARVIS, he thinks that maybe--maybe they aren’t friends--but they aren’t  _ not _ friends, either. 

It’s a startling and sobering realization. 

~*~ 

Winter hides, is the thing. Bucky smiles, lets Winter slide back, hide behind a charming grin and a mother hen routine, behind Brooklyn boys banter and a teasing drawl for Natasha and competitive rivalry for Clint. He hides, and he never truly engages with Tony directly--which is maybe why Tony can see the Soldier lurking behind Bucky. 

He’s safe, now--but he’s not, not  _ truly. _

Tony thinks maybe he never will be, maybe  _ can’t _ be. 

It doesn’t bother him, as much as it probably should. 

~*~ 

They don’t get along, and they don’t talk much, but Barnes watches him, and he watches back and Rhodey sighs, and Natasha smiles, thin-lipped and pleased, and life turns around them. 

~*~ 

He comes home and his lip is throbbing and his whole  _ body _ hurts, and it’s late, late enough it shouldn’t be an issue, a bag of ice--

Alpine makes a noise, and his head jerks up, but Winter is moving, and there’s no hiding here, no safe declawed Barnes smiling at him. 

Winter prowls across the kitchen, all sleek and deadly and it reminds him, disorientingly, of a snow covered road and familiar voices, and then he blinks and it’s the kitchen again, just the two of them and Alpine eating chicken unconcerned on the counter. 

He’s standing too close, radiating danger and barely leashed violence, but his hand--cool metal--is infinitely gentle as it comes up, tilts Tony’s head up. 

There’s blood still there, Tony can  _ taste _ it. 

“ _ Who did this?”  _ Winter whispers, and Tony shivers. 

“It doesn’t--”

“ _ Who,  _ Antoshka?” he asks, and it’s hard, demanding,  _ furious _ . His hands are gentle, spun glass delicate on his skin, leaving trails of fire where he brushes a thumb over his busted lip. 

“You don’t do that anymore,” Tony breathes, and something feral and  _ deadly _ flares behind WInter’s eyes, and it’s WInter and Barnes both, staring at him now. 

“I would,” he says, “For you, I would.” 

Tony makes a noise, something breathless and wordless and  _ wanting _ and Winter brushes a kiss, impossibly soft, against his forehead, burning briefly, and slips away. 

~*~ 

“Sergeant Barnes has asked to escort you to your future charity dinners and galas, sir,” JARVIS tells him, later, when the sun is up and his lip throbs but the kitchen and what happened there feels like a fever dream and the realest thing that’s ever happened to him. 

Tony doesn’t respond, only smiles, small and secret, but Steve and Rhodey both watch him in startled shock. 

~*~ 

Two nights later, a scarf, impossibly soft and the color of storm cloud skies, is left in his workshop, with a note. It says, simply,  _ He won’t touch you again. _

Tony smiles, and loops the scarf around his throat. 

His lip will be healed soon, he thinks, and can feel, still, the burning press of lips against his forehead. 


End file.
